The parting glance of Mother Sun broods on the grapes.
'Morning came frightening away light sleep with its footsteps.'
'The young day arose with delight.'
The moon: 'Thou spreadest thy glance soothingly over my abode.'
On a cloudy night: 'Evening already rocked earth, and night hung on the mountains; from a hill of clouds the moon looked mournfully out of the mist.'
'The lofty stars turn their clear eyes down to me.'
Even the rock lives: 'The hard rock opens its bosom, not envying earth its deep springs.'
The stream: 'Thou hurriest on with joyful light mood; see the rock spring bright with the glance of the stars, yet no shady valley, no flowers make him tarry ... his course winds downwards to the plain, then he scatters in delightful spray, in cloud waves ... foams gloomily to the abyss.'
With gradual step from out the far-off grey,
Self-heralded draws on the storm.